Page 77 of Kinks of a Billionaire
Willow
Iwoke up sated but somewhat disappointed not to find Royce in bed with me. I’d gotten used to waking up with his face buried between my legs or trailing kisses over my skin. My new favorite way to start the morning was with him fucking me into the mattress, his hand around my throat.
He completed me in so many ways, and it almost felt criminal to be so happy. Aside from the fact wewerecriminals—fugitives at that.
Still, it was impossible not to smile as I rolled onto my back and?—
“What the fuck,” I gasped, pulling at the sheets and scrambling until my back hit the headboard. My hand instinctively went to my lower abdomen protectively as fear hit me in the chest, seeing who was seated on the edge of the bed, staring at me.
“Hello, Willow.” Stuart’s voice sent revulsion through me and I gripped the sheets like my life depended on it.
“What are you doing here?” I rasped, hating the fear I could hear lacing through my words. My eyes darted around, hoping by some miracle Royce would appear, but I knew there’d be nosuch luck. He’d left on a supply run, and he usually took at least two hours on the tiny speedboat.
Stuart must have read my expression, because he leaned closer, smiling menacingly. “Yourhusbandisn’t here,” he spat.
Shit, he was pissed, and the unhinged look in his gaze sent alarm bells ringing. My stomach twisted as I ran through my options. I could throw the lamp on my bedside at him and run, but he’d likely be quicker. Plus, I was naked—how far did I think I was going to get? I searched around, looking for something—anything—that could be used as a weapon.
Stuart’s face swam before me, my stress making me see double until I blinked the blurriness away.
“What are you doing here?” I croaked, attempting to sound unaffected but struggling to pull air in through my nose and mouth. I coughed to clear my throat, and that was when I realized my fingers were turning numb. Something was wrong. My vision blurred and I attempted to blink it away as I shifted into a seated position, but a wave of dizziness forced me back against the mattress.
“Taking back what’s mine,” he said.
Panic clawed at me. “What did you do?”
My voice came out slurred and I fought the urge to throw up. I attempted to stumble off the bed, but I barely made it to the edge of it when he yanked me back by my hair.
No, no, no.
“Not so fast, whore,” he said, pointing a gun at my temple.Did he always have a gun?My brain fought to keep up.
“Stuart, please,” I croaked, terror for my baby soaking through every fiber of me. “Think of the baby.”
“We’ll be going on our own honeymoon,” he said, smiling viciously.
I opened my mouth to scream when something hard hit me over the head and full darkness engulfed me.
I groaned and turned onto my side, feeling around to get an idea of my surroundings as I tried to blink away the darkness. I felt a tingle in my fingers and toes, then the cold, hard surface beneath me. Finally, the pounding behind my eyes and throbbing in my temples had the events with Stuart rushing back to me.
I wrenched my eyelids open and found that my wrists were tied. Where was I? What was going on?
I took a deep breath in, letting my lungs expand and push the panic out.Breathe, Willow. Breathe.
My eyes darted down my body and I was relieved to find myself dressed in Royce’s white T-shirt and boxers. But where was I?
I shut my eyes again as I tried to think, and it seemed to help with my nausea. I had to remember what happened. I visualized Royce telling me he’d be back in a few hours before falling asleep again, only to wake up and find… Stuart.
Oh my God. I’d been kidnapped by my ex-fiancé.
I pried my eyes open through sheer force of will, gritted my teeth, and refused to let panic rise within my chest.
I seemed to be in some sort of concrete bunker with two windows on either side of the steel-reinforced door. A sliver of sunlight filtered through the wooden slats, and I scrambled to my feet to see if I could make anything out.
There was no furniture other than a filthy bed fastened with iron bars—the same ones that were currently bound to my wrists. Bile coated my throat.Oh my God, Stuart has lost his fucking mind.
“Good, you’re awake.” My head whipped toward the familiar voice, and I knew I was seconds away from puking. “Happy to see me?”
“What is wrong with you, asshole?” I hissed, my voice sounding too pathetically weak. “You drugged me.” Stuart flashed a twisted smile. “You could have hurt my baby.”
